Shooting at the Hospital: Short Story

I was hit by a car, was told that I had broken both my legs, five ribs, and had a punctured lung. The doctor said I was lucky the bone fragments didn't do any damage to the heart. I was also told that I had to spend the next two months recovering in the hospital.

The first week was the best, only because I was unconscious the whole time. The second week was excruciating. I realized how much pain I was actually in. The nurse that attended to me wouldn't give me the amount of painkillers I wanted, and I went into shock multiple times.

The third and fourth week, my ribs were not completely healed but better. They let me freely roam the gift shop, the cafeteria and the waiting rooms. That was cool but little did I know the last month was going to be absolute mayhem.

My hands were spinning the wheel on my chair. I was going quickly until a passing nurse stopped me, telling me to slow down, the same nurse who wouldn't give me the painkillers. I was on the top floor, looking to get back on the second, so I wheeled myself in the elevator. All alone, I watched the doors shut and the humming of the elevator filled my ears. Suddenly, it stopped and I waited for the doors to open, unfortunately, they didn't. No more noises coming from above or below me, but I knew, this elevator was going to be here for a while. I reached over and hit the alarm button, nothing happened, so I tried the phone. I put it to my ear... dead. All of a sudden the lights above me shut off, cascading me into a a room of absolute nothingness. For a moment I thought I had gone blind.

I dozed off, my head leaning against the doors of the elevator. When I awoke, a pain struck my chest and I realized the painkillers were wearing off. I opened my mouth to scream, to call for help, to call for that nurse that would never give me enough painkillers. The sound of my voice was unfamiliar. It was hoarse and broken, the call for help came out more like a beg, or plead, rather than a call. Once again, I dozed off, dreaming of my time back home, where I played my Xbox, Facebooked my friends and completely ignored my parents. I woke up with a start, disorganized, confused, scared. I let my eyes wander and I soon realized I was in a hospital bed.

It was a relief, but something didn't feel right. I glanced down and saw wires hooked to me, machines beeping rhythmically, the occasional head popping into the room. I realized something wasn't right, and as if on cue nurse walked in. She told me that I was found the elevator and that I should probably go back to sleep. I had to agree, I was so heavy on drugs my eyelids felt like they weighed over fifty pounds. I shut my eyes and let the monitor's beeping sounds put me into a deep sleep.

Two weeks left. I slept a lot but when I was awake I watched television, mainly medical dramas, I looked around the room, no romance happening at this hospital.

I lay in bed, waiting for the nurse to retrieve my medicine. Suddenly, a blasting noise filled the entire hospital. What was that? A gunshot? No way. Another blasting noise, this time closer, this time with a scream. It all felt so unreal. I didn't rub my eyes or pinch myself like they do in the movies, I could hardly blink, it just felt too real. A nurse ran past my door, her scrubs were waving behind her. A second gunshot sounded and the nurse dropped onto the tiled floor, limp as a child's doll. I was terrified. A hospital shooting? Really? Here and now? Absolute chaos. I threw my sheets over my head, thinking about how much of an idiot I was, believing that the sheets would protect me. Sirens wailed in the distance... what a relief. This "Mr. Shoot up the hospital" was going down. Police officer's voices boomed, gunshots blasted. The last thing I heard was, "We got a survivor," before, I fainted. Fainted, how fainted? I couldn't believe myself!

I woke up with the smell of chicken noodle soup in my nose. I stared up... whiteness. I saw my girlfriend lean over and planted a kiss on my cheek. My mom brought over a steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup. "So this is what heaven's like," I thought to myself, "not bad."

It took me a while and a lot of convincing that I wasn't in heaven and that I was at home. Turns out I was out for three whole days, I passed out because the adrenaline rushed out of my system to quickly or something like that. The police had let my family take me home and take care of me there, my mom wasn't about to take any risks with the hospital. Nevertheless, it all wasn't important anymore, I was safe, safe back in my bed, my comfy bed. I was home at last!